


Scams Like Old Times

by Entropy House (AnonEhouse)



Category: Drake's Venture
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Con Artists, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Entropy%20House
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas Doughty reincarnates as a con man, and takes advantage of anyone named Francis/Frances Drake. It's only fair- Drake killed him in their last incarnation, he's <i>owed</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scams Like Old Times

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

The door burst in, followed by a burly, redheaded man. He knocked over a badly worn desk and cuffed the slender young man behind it. "You bastard! You've robbed my mother blind!"

The young man coughed, looking up from the floor. "I fear you have the advantage of me, sir. But I do suspect you must have made a mistake," he said in polished, upper-crust, tones. He was remarkably composed, considering that a trickle of blood was running from the side of his mouth, and his black silk shirt was torn.

"Did I?" The redhead pulled a folded-up paper from the pocket of his Levis and flung it at the former occupant of the desk who unfolded it and sighed.

"Oh, yes, that."

"I'll have the law on you!"

Pounding feet announced the arrival of another big man, who scowled at the redhead before turning to the young man lying on the floor. "You've got trouble, Thom?"

"Always." Thom rose to his feet, using the wall for help. He investigated the inside of his mouth. "You've loosened a tooth," he said mildly to the redhead.

"I'll do more than that!" The redhead lunged forward, but was intercepted by the other man. 

Thom stepped around the battling figures, closing the outside door, setting the desk back upright and tidying himself with the help of a nearby mirror. By the time he was finished putting the room to rights, the battle was over. He sat back in his chair and looked at the two panting figures glaring at each other.

"I'm sure we can come to an amicable arrangement, sir." He folded his hands, displaying a large, square-cut emerald ring, and another ring fashioned from a silver doubloon.

"You're a con-artist, and you're going to get what's coming to you!" 

Thom held up his hands, stopping the other big man from resuming the fight. "Lennie, leave us alone for a few minutes, will you?"

"No, I bloody well will not!" Lennie said. "I remember the last time!"

Thom sighed. "Please?" 

"Oh, damn, you know I'll do anything when you look at me like that." Lennie went to Thom and kissed him. "Don't be stupid." Then he walked out of the room into the corridor. His voice could be heard through the door explaining to someone unseen that furniture had fallen over, but everything was all right.

Thom looked at the redhead. "If you'll give me her name, and a moment to check my records, I'll refund your mother's money. If you turn me over to the police it'll be months before you see a dime- and lawyer's fees will eat up most of it."

"You sound like a damn lawyer yourself!"

"Well, I was once." Thom grinned suddenly. "But I was disbarred for being... shall we say... too honorable."

"You're a crook and a liar!"

Thom sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know why I bother. I should have known you wouldn't be interested in any protestations of innocence." Suddenly he looked tired. "All you want is the gold."

"Gold? I want my mother's money. Her name is Frances Drake."

"That doesn't exactly narrow it down. There are one hundred and twenty six of them in the US." Thom pulled out a small ledger book from the desk drawer and tossed it to the redhead. "You can find her by her address here."

"And you scammed all of them?"

"Of course, how could I resist? There are sixty-seven thousand two hundred and one people named Drake, many of whom are irrational enough to believe Sir Francis Drake not only left a fortune and descendents, but that none of these mythical descendents in hundreds of years had made off with the funds. " He shook his head. "There are only sixty-seven men named Francis Drake, though. Odd that the female version should be more popular."

"Here, here she is!" The redhead pointed to a line in the book. "Fifty two thousand!"

"Shall I write you a check?"

"Don't be funny."

"I don't keep that much on hand. This isn’t a very good neighborhood." Thom rose from the desk and put on a black vicuna coat. "I'll have to go to the bank."

"I'm coming with you."

"Of course you are." Thom opened the door. Lennie was standing there, scowling at a small blonde woman. She looked up at Thom and the redhead standing in the doorway.

"John!" she said sharply, "I told you to leave him alone!"

"But ma, he scammed you," the redhead protested. "You gave him fifty two thousand dollars for nothing!"

"It wasn't for nothing." The blonde walked past Lennie, her air of command making him back up instinctively. "I owed him. I still owe him. Go home, John."

"Frances?" Thom said, hesitantly.

"Yes. It's me." She turned to face the redhead. "John."

"All right. " John Drake scowled. "It's that way, is it? What if dad hears about this?"

"He'll shut up, and keep cashing his alimony checks, that's what. Go home, John, before I lose my patience with you."

John said something under his breath. Frances took one quick step forward and cracked him sharply across the mouth. "I do as I will, John, don't you forget that."

Flushed red with impotent fury, John stormed down the staircase. Lennie looked back and forth between Thom and Francis. "It isn't fair," he protested. "I've been at his side all these years, and you show up and crook your little finger and think you can take him away from me!"

Frances looked at Thom. "I know I'm old enough to be your mother, but you still want me, don't you, Thomas? Think how it was. The fire. The passion. The wealth. We could still have sex on piles of gold coin."

Lennie snorted. "Oh, yes, up until you decided to get rid of him. And, after all, you don't have what Thomas really needs—not any more."

Thom swallowed, looking back and forth between the two of them, glaring at each other. "I need time to think. Please, let me alone, both of you." He ran down the stairs at the other end of the hallway.

***

Four hours later, Lennie and Frances stopped quarreling long enough to discover Thom had cleared out his account at the bank and vanished. "Damn," Lennie said. "That bitch. He took my share, too."

Frances left the bank, scowling.

***

Lennie went around the corner to the Black Swan pub/bar. "Two of my usual," he told the bartender, "and keep them coming."

"Drowning your sorrows?" The bartender said as he gave Lennie the drinks.

"Nah. Celebrating." Lennie slid into a booth at the back and gave Thom his drink. "Can we retire to Bermuda now?"

Thom flipped open his ledger book, scanned it, and nodded. "Yes. That was the last of the Frances Drakes who believe in reincarnation."

"Fools. As if a name matters." Lennie picked up Thom's hand and kissed it. "If I can turn a Pelican into a Golden Hind..."

Thom grinned and picked up his drink. "I knew we could do anything, if only we worked together.

**Author's Note:**

> The Francis Drake Inheritance scam has been around for a long, long time. 
> 
> If you're not familiar with the fandom, you may not have realized that 'Lennie' is actually Francis Drake's reincarnation. I was being sneaky there.
> 
> At the time I wrote this, the numbers of Drakes was correct. It may have changed.


End file.
